Hired Gun
by xrogue23
Summary: Claymore AU. Claymore as hired guns/assassins. Irene-centric.
1. 1: Prologue

Well, seems like I've started on a new fanfiction after abandoning my last one for what, years? Ah, well…

Anyway, this fiction will be AU and I'll probably bring the characters OOC, but I'll try not to. I've set Claymore as a hired gun/mercenary organization that completes jobs for a high fee. Sutafu will be an unknown island where the organization has its HQ. Irene-centric, of course… Maybe a little yuri later if I feel like it…

**Edit: **Ok, I've decided to base this story in an alternate universe that is similar to the world in Claymore, but with modern technology. This gives me more freedom to shape how I want this world to be so it can suit my needs, since I'm probably going to go laissez-faire with this story... So please pardon the name substitute for Russia here. Thanks.

Enjoy…

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 1: Prologue<span>**

My name is Alexei Levitsky, one of the four founders of the second largest weapons dealing organization in Ruyleia. The other three are Yegor, Dmitri and Nikolai; partners I have found while gang fighting in the streets, brothers who I could rely on for solid support. In our late twenties, we grew tired of the little gang we belonged to and the violent skirmishes that broke out at every little whim. We wanted more. We wanted to make a name for ourselves, to make filthy loads of money with minimal risk of us getting our ears cut off or our bodies marred. So we sneaked out of the pathetically small gang we belonged to and started selling weapons, for we knew the underground would need a constant supply of it. Between Dmitri's small family inheritance, which helped us secure our first batch of weapons to sell, my brains and Yegor's and Nikolai's muscle, we managed to get the little business running. What we couldn't get with money, we got it with strategy. What we couldn't get with strategy, we got it with violence. Over the years we have expanded, employing more underlings to take care of menial tasks while keeping total control amongst the four of us. Everything led to where we are now, Ruyleia's second largest.

Sighing softly, I slowly closed my eyes and leant back further into the leather seat of the limousine. In my left hand, I gently swirled the aged Ihirlan wine in its glass as I thought over my current situation. The head of the largest weapons organization had just passed away and apparently, he had not made clear which of his children or family member should inherit the business. Though the Jakovs put on a strong façade of a grieving, tightly-knit family, I know better. I know there was scheming and backstabbing within the family. I know how the wife was desperately trying to get the four Jakov brothers to work together, how the brothers were unwilling to share the power amongst them and how relatives of both the late husband and wife were trying to claw for their portion of the big, fat pie. I smirked slightly. The internal strife could not have been more perfect. It was the most opportune time to insert myself into the fray and tear down the organization that was blocking my way to the top. But before I do that, I needed to take care of matters more personal. To be more specific, I had to take care of the three partners I have.

My brothers had been the best partners I could have while we were clawing our way to the top. They were reliable, unhesitant, unorthodox and loyal. That was what I liked about them. In the past, we could get anything done. They did not think twice about following the plans I made and were always on their toes. But it seems like the vast fortune we have amassed has made them conceited and all too comfortable. What remained of the steely-nerved compatriots, the comrades always pumped for action, was laziness, self-gratification and the taste for luxury. Yegor had married a well-known slut who slept around with rich men for the money, and it seemed like he cannot get himself untwisted from her fingers any time soon, giving her all the luxuries she wanted. Dmitri was chasing almost every skirt he came across, the playboy in that expensive suit with muscles that women couldn't wait to molest. He was spending money everywhere, and the business was his main source of income. Go figure. Nikolai fell into the habit of gambling and the worse habit of losing seventy percent of the time. Now he wanted to set up his own casino, his own gambling den, thinking his love of gambling would help him get even more money. The best part was that he wanted to use money from our business. Idiot.

I sighed even more heavily this time, as the driver announced through the intercom, 'Sir, we are about to reach the hotel in five minutes.' I downed the rest of the wine from the glass, trying to sooth the slight nerves that have worked up. Incompetency will not stand in my way to the top. That was a vow that I have made to myself when the business has started, and I will not go back on it now. That's why I have arranged this meeting with my brothers. Tonight, I will remove my final obstacle to my ultimate goal.

The limo rolled to a smooth stop, and I stepped out of it, my leather shoes making a satisfying sound as it hit the pavement. I checked my watch, 7.49pm. The driver stepped out of the car, 'Sir, what time would you like me to pick you up?'

'At 8.40, Viktor. Don't be late.' I gave him a small smile. I did not try to be intimidating to my underlings, not in the least. It would do no good for resentment to build up in them and give them an incentive to try any funny business. Besides, showing respect to underlings would in turn earn respect from them. Having good rapport with your subordinates also meant that your business would have a good foundation. Something that most businessman forgot, including my three partners. At the thought of the three waiting for me up in the hotel, my heart grew somewhat heavier.

'Yes, sir!' Viktor grinned and hopped back into the car, driving it away.

I strode into the hotel's elevator and pressed the button for the 24th floor. As the elevator moved steadily upwards, I took slow, deep breaths, calming myself down. What happened later would change my life forever… A 'ding' from the elevator announced my arrival at the 24th floor, and I walked briskly to the suite where I have arranged the meeting. When I opened the door, a familiar sight greeted me. All three men were in shirts, untucked of course, and trousers. Yegor lounged on the cushy couch, chuckling at some variety show on television. Dmitri and Nikolai were playing cards, with beer bottles beside them on the table. All three turned their heads as I walked in.

'Hey, Alex.' Yegor gave a casual wave. 'What took you?'

'Heavy traffic.' I lied. The truth was, I was late on purpose. I needed more time alone before I came into this… meeting.

Dmitri examined my crisp attire, a long-sleeved shirt and black pants. 'Man, you look stuffy. Grab a drink.' He motioned to the kitchen.

I gave a little roll of my eyes, then grabbed a bottle from the fridge. I took a chair from the dining table, and carefully placed it in front of my friends, making sure that I was not sitting too near to any of them. I looked out of the window, at the building across the street. I let my mind wander for awhile, and then Yegor broke the quiet, somewhat relaxed mood in the room. Well, 'relaxed' may not accurately apply to me…

'So, bro, what did you call us out here for?'

I examined him and my two other friends before answering. 'The Jakovs.'

Nikolai gave a triumphant 'Hah!' I looked to him quizzically, eyebrows slightly raised.

'I told them that you wanted to talk about taking over the Jakov business, but they insisted that you wanted to announce that your wife's pregnant.' The three of them were grinning at their joke, and I rolled my eyes once again. Then I glanced at my watch. 8.13pm.

Yegor got serious first. 'Alex, I know you want to expand our business as quickly as possible. But I don't think this is very… ethical… or nice.' He pursed his lips together.

'Well, you are one to talk about being ethical.' I retorted. 'After all we did in the past, the last thing I thought we'd discuss about was ethics.'

Dmitri joined in. 'What if they're not really as disorganized as we thought, Alex? What if they're waiting for us to make our move, then when we're in, they'll spring a trap on us?' The uncertainty was clearly reflected in his voice. My eyes narrowed slightly, and I moved my eyes to Nikolai's face, where I saw a similar doubtful expression. My grip on my bottle of beer tightened. They really have degenerated into foolish cowards, I thought to myself as I took a swig from my bottle.

'Ah… forget it.' I gave a dismissive wave of my hand. Then I glanced at my watch again. 8.22pm. Then I leaned into my chair, crossing my legs and trying to exude the aura of total relaxation. I did not succeed, of course. The time was approaching fast. The time when everything will change. I tried to calm my jangling nerves with another large gulp of beer. Yegor must have noticed my unsettled demeanour.

'You okay, bro?' He looked concerned. 'Look, I know the Jakov business is important, but I really think that we should think it through first…' His words trailed off. So he thought I was troubled about the Jakovs. I almost let out a nervous chuckle at that. Delicious irony was playing out right in front of my eyes. Yegor was actually concerned about the Jakovs' lives, when his, along with Dmitri's and Nikolai's were the ones that was about to change totally. I have him a small smirk, 'Fine, whatever.' I drank some more beer.

I looked at my watch again, and found that I could not take my eyes off anymore. 8.28pm. I could practically feel my heart at my throat. The minute hand moved excruciatingly slowly to 8.29pm. After what seemed like an eternity, the minute hand finally moved to signal 8.30pm. I quickly looked up at my friends. I had to witness this moment.

The first two shots came after ten seconds, and it came so fast that I would have missed it, if Dmitri's and Nikolai's head did not exhale the blood violently. Their bodies jerked sideways and the beer bottles on the table got smashed on the floor. Yegor stood up quickly, but the bullet quickly stopped anymore movement as it entered his left eye and exited out the back of his head, bringing bits of brain along with it. After that, deadly silence for a full minute. I sat rooted to my chair, shocked out of my mind. I was expecting this, hell, I was the one who engineered this whole thing, but fear stuck me to my chair. The ringing of my phone in my pocket almost shocked me off the chair. I yanked it out with trembling hands and answered the call on the cheap, throwaway phone.

'Mr. Levitsky,' a cool, deep female voice came from the phone. 'I recommend that you get your senses back together and start acting. Run out of the room and yell for help. When the police arrive, tell your own story and don't divulge anything. You know the consequences of leaking the truth out, don't you?' The woman did not seem to have any emotion in her voice, and the question sounded like a threat. I managed a strangled 'Yes.'

'Good,' the woman continued. 'So start moving now.'

With that, she hung up.

Suddenly, it felt like someone poured a bucket of ice water over my head. I jolted back to reality. Taking a deep breath, I barged out of the suite's door. 'SECURITY! HELP! MURDER! SECURITY!' As the security personnel came running, I slid down the wall opposite the door and held my head in my hands. The entire weight of the situation sank in, and I felt tremors start taking over my body. I murdered the three friends I have suffered with. I felt worse than a sinner. A few female staff came by the room, and then screamed after seeing the scene in the room. The scream, however, did not register in my brain. I had gone numb. It felt like everything was happening in a blur. Another staff kneeled beside me and said something I could not hear. Then the police arrived and started questioning me. I went through everything in a daze.

_-1 hour later-_

I climbed slowly back into my limousine. Viktor had arrived on time and waited for 43 minutes. I was tired. My genuine shock helped me play my part as a traumatized and innocent friend very well. They decided to stop the barrage of questions and told me to go back home, and that the questioning would continue another day. I sat back onto the leather seat, unbuttoned two buttons on my shirt and closed my eyes.

I slowly took out my cheap phone and dialed back to the number that had called earlier. The same voice as before answered curtly.

'Yes.'

I remained silent for awhile, searching for words. The woman on the other end of the line remained quiet, patiently waiting.

'Thank you for your good job,' I racked my brains to remember the woman's name. I thought for awhile, then got it. 'Irene. Is it?'

'Yes.' Apparently she wasn't a woman of many words.

'I will transfer the agreed amount to the account given.' I thought for awhile then added, 'I will also include some extra payment for you.' The generosity probably came from relief that almost everything had blown over.

'That would not be necessary.'

'I insist.'

'Very well. Thank you, Mr. Levitsky. Feel free to contact us for our services again.'

I gave a small laugh. It may be quite awhile before I engage their services again. 'I do hope to meet you one day, Irene.'

'Beware what you wish for, Mr. Levitsky.' With that, she hung up.

I cracked open my eyes and stared at the dull phone.

Claymore. Hired guns that would do anything at an admittedly high price. But they were terrifyingly efficient, as I witnessed from earlier in the evening.

I gave a large sigh, then thought about the success that was just within my reach. The weapons industry would soon belong to me, and only me. There will undoubtedly be more competition and ruthlessness to deal with. I smirked. _Claymore. _Maybe I will engage their services more in future.

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><p>Ok, I know this guy has no relevance to the Claymores whatsoever, but this chapter gives me some ground to work on. Please pardon grammatical or any other errors as I did this whole chapter in one shot after studying. HAHA.<p>

May make some changes to this later.

Please review, criticize, flame, whatever. If any of you want to submit ideas please pm me… Thanks.


	2. 2: Home

Sorry guys, no action yet. I'm trying to establish how Sutafu looks like, how the Claymores are going to be in this fiction. And yes, I'm kind of pampering them here with materialistic pleasures. Haha. Please review and tell me if I'm long-winded/non-descriptive/not deep enough, anything.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Home<strong>

Irene stepped off the boat onto the docks of Sutafu. It was… she checked her watch, 10.57pm, Saturday. It has been almost three days since she had boarded the Claymore-employed boat and sailed back home. She stretched her arms and back. There was nothing to do on the boat for three days except to gaze at the sea, fish with the captain and deckhand, fiddle with her laptop, listen to music and sleep. Not that she was complaining, she enjoyed the much needed rest and relaxation. The past month had kept her busy with various assignments, the last one being the assassination requested by Alexei Levitsky.

'Hey, Irene!'

Irene turned around to face the boat, and saw the deckhand jump off the boat onto the deck, jogging towards her holding a plastic container. The woman arched an eyebrow.

'Mike cooked dinner earlier on, but didn't call you up because he thought you were sleeping in your cabin.' Leon motioned to the container he was holding. 'So he decided to keep some and heated it up just now.' He held up the container, waiting for the Claymore to accept it.

Irene gave a small smile, then took the container. 'Thanks, Leon.' The deckhand grinned at her and started walking back to the boat. She looked to the boat's upper deck and spotted Mike, the captain. Irene raised the package in her right hand as a gesture of thanks and goodbye. The captain gave a wide smile, then waved back. Mike and Leon were part of the small group of sailors that were hired by the Organization to transport the Claymores from and to the isolated piece of land called Sutafu. These mariners were chosen carefully by the Organization's handlers. They had to be tough, quick thinkers, and most importantly, unafraid of the Claymores. Usually, normal people tread around the Claymores with caution. The piercing silver eyes can be unnerving, especially so if those eyes are looking right at you. But this group of sailors seems to be immune. Either that or they have very good nerves. Irene cast one last look to the boat she just stepped off. Mike and Leon were definitely the cheerful ones of the lot. She liked them.

Irene proceeded down the path towards the Claymore's living quarters, a U-shaped building with five floors. The headquarters was some distance away, a seven-floored office-like building. That was where mission briefings and handlers' meetings took place. Administrative matters were also seen to there. The top three floors were the handlers' living quarters, which used to be the prime area for pranks by the young Claymores on the handlers. When the generation after Irene's had been recruited and started training, however, the handlers have installed much tighter security to prevent anymore of the childish and embarrassing antics from happening. All thanks to Irene, Teresa, Sophia and Noel. Irene could not suppress a smirk at the memories. There was no love lost between the handlers and Claymores. After all, Claymores were still little girls who have lost their family and had been picked up by the Organization to be trained into cold-blooded killers. There was no widespread resentment or hatred against the Organization amongst the Claymores, however. The handlers were smart enough not to oppress killers to the point where they feel the need to rebel. Claymores were given a large enough portion of the payment from their assignments to spend on their own. In fact, the Claymores were given freedom, except for two rules. One, they could only live on Sutafu, nowhere else. Two, taking innocent lives for personal benefit was strictly prohibited. Breaking any two of the rules would result in execution by her comrades. So far, there are only been five known Claymores strong enough to break the rules and evade punishment… But that's a story that can wait.

The platinum-haired Claymore yawned as she entered the living quarters and started climbing up the stairs to her room on the fifth floor. Her body did not feel exhausted, but her eyelids felt like they were made of lead. Weird, she thought to herself as she swiped her room's cardkey across the scanner and stepped into her personal living space. It was not very decorated, but then again, most Claymores found no need to beautify their rooms so much. All their rooms were the same: a bed, wardrobe, a worktable along with stationery and a few books Irene bought, a mini-kitchen with only an oven and a bathroom to the side. The layout was simple, and they only differed according to what each Claymore decided to buy and put in her own room. For Irene, she bought a television, which was right in front of her bed, a pair of dumbbells, a small fridge, as well as her personal belongings, which she was currently emptying out of her duffel bag onto her bed. A laptop and mobile phone, provided to every Claymore for intel purposes, an iPod Touch and clothes. After she put those neatly away, she opened a standard-issue briefcase that contained her weapons. This briefcase had also been issued by the Organization, and served the purpose of hiding the Claymore's weapons if she needed to travel between countries and pass through customs. When opened by someone else, it would only reveal seemingly normal business documents. A small, nondescript thumbprint scanner was installed at a corner of the 'normal' compartment and when activated by its owner, would unlock the second compartment underneath, where the weapons were stashed. A special material surrounded the second compartment so that the weapons would not show up on baggage scan. Right now, Irene had a dismantled sniper rifle and two pistols resting snugly in the compartment. She gave them a quick visual check, planning to leave thorough cleaning for tomorrow, and slid the briefcase under her worktable. Within fifteen minutes, Irene went through the shower, got dressed in a t-shirt one size larger, along with shorts and quickly fell asleep on her bed.

-_The next day-_

The sun had risen for quite some time already, but with it filtering through the curtains, it was less than a deterrent for Irene's sleep. The woman had pulled the blanket up to her neck, curled to a fetal position back-facing the window, her slumber uninterrupted. That was, of course, until someone knocked on her door.

_Knock-knock_

At the first couple of knocks, Irene barely skimmed the surface of consciousness before slipping back into sleep.

_**Knock-knock**_

The sound grew louder and more persistent. This time, Irene had a toe over the boundary of consciousness. _Who the hell's at the door so early in the morning? _Irene thought grumpily to herself, pulling up the covers over her head, trying to mute the sound out but failing.

'Irene, I know you're inside. Don't try to ignore me~' The familiar voice floated into the room.

Irene gave a little huff, knowing that her time in bed was over. Teresa was at the door, and she was determined to get Irene out. Nothing could stop that woman. If Irene left her ignored for too long, her door would probably fly off its hinges. The sleepy, and not to mention pissed off, Claymore threw back the covers and went to wrench the door open.

Teresa leaned against the door frame suggestively, her smile playfully seductive. 'Good morning, sexy.'

In response, Irene turned and slammed the door closed in one motion. When the satisfying _bang_ of the door did not reach her ears, Irene turned around to find Teresa's shoe in the door's way, preventing it from closing. As a matter of fact, the door had bounced off the offending shoe and swung wide open, allowing Teresa a complete view into her room.

'Aren't you a bright little ray of sunshine this morning?'

Irene suppressed the urge to strangle that woman. She just gave a little '_tsk_' and fell back onto the bed, burying her face in the pillow as if trying to smother herself.

Teresa closed the door and sauntered into the room. She rolled her eyes a little when she saw Irene trying to merge her face with the pillow.

'Aww… Come on, Irene!' The blonde tried to pry Irene off the bed, only to have herself swatted away. 'It's a bright Sunday morning! Are you going to spend it in your bed?'

She waited for a few seconds, but did not get a response. If she did not know better, she would have thought her friend was dead, given the way she pressed her face into the pillow and was not moving. Teresa gave a little helpless gesture with her hands. _The soft approach won't work, huh? You're asking for it… _The blonde woman placed a hand near her friend's side, and then gave a hard jab. A smile spread on her face when Irene flinched away from the offending hand with a muffled '_Fuck off._' Profanities started coming out of Irene's mouth when she was approaching the edge of tolerance. She knew she was close.

Teresa raised both hands and tickled Irene's sides. The platinum-haired woman jumped, turned around and grabbed Teresa's wrists. 'I said **fuck off, **Teresa!' Irene yelled and pushed Teresa away from the bed-

-only to find her movement being amplified, Teresa pulling Irene off the bed. Realizing her mistake, Irene quickly let go of Teresa's wrists, only to find that she had made yet another mistake. Teresa seized the chance to clamp Irene's wrists and grappled her toward the bathroom, finally pushing the angry woman into it and closing the door, keeping a firm hold on the knob so that Irene could not open the door. 'I'm not letting you out until you wash up.' Teresa told the trapped friend. The door jerked for awhile, then stopped moving. Teresa cocked her head to the side. _Giving up so soon? _

Almost immediately, she heard a resounding _thump _on the door as Irene banged her fist on the door. 'I need a change of clothes, asshole.' Irene's voice was more level, and sounded a tad calmer, but there was still an undercurrent of anger.

'You wait in there. I'll get it for you.' Teresa started to let go of the knob, but immediately refastened her grip. 'If you dare to come out of the bathroom, I'll personally kick your ass all over the training grounds, got it?' There was no answer. But then again, none was needed. Teresa could very well carry out her threat, and Irene knew it. The blonde Claymore quickly opened Irene's wardrobe, then pulled out a white long-sleeved shirt and black slacks. She knocked on the bathroom door, and Irene opened it, giving her a smoldering glare while wrenching her clothes from Teresa's hand. A smile broke out on Teresa's face again, when Irene slammed the bathroom door shut. She went to the bed and laid her back on it, satisfied. She was the only one who could get so deeply under Irene's skin.

Awhile later, Irene finished her bathroom routine and stepped back into her room. She threw her used clothes at the woman lounging on her bed.

'Hey!' Teresa pulled the clothes off and looked at her friend, who currently had her arms crossed and a small frown on her face.

'Mind telling me why the hell you woke me up so early in the morning?'

Teresa arched an eyebrow. 'It's not that early, for your information. It was 9.50 when I first came in. It's now 10.30…' She noted the slight pressing of lips together and decided to get to the point. 'Sophia and Noel are going on a mission together later. I thought we could give them a ride to Menaire then hang out together.' Teresa was relieved when Irene gave a small defeated sigh, instead berating her further.

Irene started pulling on her shoes. She glanced at the blonde, who had moved to the door, waiting for her to get done.

'But I don't understand why you couldn't wait 'til later to go out. I don't have any more assignments for these two weeks or so…' Irene trailed off at the sight of the peculiar expression on Teresa's face. She could not describe how the blonde looked. Vulnerable? Upset? Uncertain? It was not an expression that appeared on Teresa's face often.

'You were away for a month… I reached back here two weeks before, but you still haven't come back…' The blonde's voice was soft and Irene recognized that tone. She had only started hearing it not too long ago, and it always managed to make her heart tighten a little.

Irene was done with her shoes, and started folding her sleeves to a little above her elbow, trying to buy a little more time. She did not know how to react, especially when Teresa was like that. This was still new to her…

She started when she realized Teresa had moved closer to her, and looked up. Irene's mind went blank when she felt the other woman's lips touch her cheek softly.

Teresa lingered there for a moment then pulled slowly away, but kept the close distance between them, her eyes never leaving Irene's. Her hand grasped Irene's gently. 'I missed you…' She whispered, soft but sincere.

Irene could not break the gaze. Her hand felt weak in Teresa's, as she felt the other woman's thumb caress her fingers. Irene had always been so sure of her composure, that aura that she had learnt to build up around her, that calmness that she instilled within herself. Everything went to pieces when Teresa confessed her feelings. When the beautiful blonde had held her in her arms, had told her that she loved her, Irene felt like breaking right then and there. And she wanted to. She knew that Teresa would be able to hold her, to instill a sense of strong security in her, to give her all the love in the world…

But fear held her back. The fear of letting someone so deeply into her life, letting someone have such control over her feelings, the fear of letting someone so powerful love her… Irene did not feel ready… not yet.

Teresa moved closer again, not towards her cheek now, but her lips. Irene's eyes fell half-closed, she could feel her soft breath mingling with Teresa's, could almost feel those full lips on her own… Raising her hands, Irene placed one on the blonde's shoulder to stop her from moving any closer, lightly pressing the fingers of the other on her lips. Teresa opened her eyes, and Irene could see her dilated pupils. The message was clear: she wanted her, she **needed** her.

'I… I'm sorry.' Irene looked to the floor apologetically. She could not meet Teresa eyes. She knew it hurt the blonde every time Irene pushed her away.

Teresa smiled gently. She left a lingering kiss on Irene's fingertips.

'Let's go, shall we?' Teresa asked softly.

Irene nodded, earning a wider smile from her companion. Teresa held Irene's hand in a soft but firm grasp, and led the way out of the room.

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><p>Yeap, I have decided to jump onto the TeresaIrene ship. How quickly their relationship develops, however, depends on how sadistic I am. So… uh-huh…

ANYWAYS. Please review or anything. Really appreciate the feedback. Thanks!


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